The best friend I ever had, was the sweetest person I have ever known. We were demure, yet bold, reticent strangers who shared everything and nothing.
Building friendships had always been something sceptical for me, but her aura made it impossible for me to reject her. Our friendship blossomed like wildflowers growing naturally in a work environment, yet, she was as beautiful as a rose.
I like to think of her as my saccharine Brown Sugar, and I still have many sentimental items that I hold on to.
Brown Sugar, with pretty hazel-brown eyes, with a sanguine persona. Her contoured curves were admired by everyone.
Calculating San Francisco time and Jamaica time, I'd anticipate our long-distance calls which brought howls with laughter, and I'd blink my eyes and purse my lips at my exorbitant phone bills, knowing it was worth every penny. I still have fond memories of her sweet refined voice. She was always solicitous in conversation, and her words at the end of the line were like jingles assuring me that everything would be alright.
You know, that je ne sais quoi appeal. I admired her for her strength and comeliness.
Brown Sugar was responsible.
She could dance in the rain and scold me with her pretend rod.
Brown Sugar was like a mother, a big sister, and a bestie. She always had the answers, even when I found myself in troublesome situations. She always gave me her auspicious best wishes.
Brown Sugar had an unmatched instinct, and our "detective sessions" were legendary. Our antennas were alert, and there was always a case to be tried, followed by endless gales of laughter.
Many nights we went restaurant-hopping. We liked to paint the town while laughing beneath the stars on our late nights on the seafront. Brown Sugar had that innate country girl dexterous machete abilities. Like a fly swatter for pouncing males, she was, and I felt secure with her:)
My phone rings.
— "Hi! I'll be staying for a week. What do you have planned for tonight?" "I'm at Marguerite's, do you want to come?"
— "Oh ya! Sounds good to me." I'd always say.
Marguerite's by the Sea was the spot to be on Montego Bay's Hip-strip in Jamaica. Brown Sugar was a hostess at Marguerite's whenever she visited the island for lengthy periods, while I slaved worked as a concierge at a luxury hotel.
Making dinner reservations at hotel restaurants and off-site eateries was a huge responsibility of my job.
Marguerite's, a gourmet seafood restaurant with a nightclub Marguerita Ville, attached. It was a popular spot for tourist and locals alike.
Brown Sugar always squeezed my guests reservations in, whenever I called to book. Frequently the free shuttle bus ran late to pick up my irate guests, and Brown Sugar lied so skilfully whenever I'd call to get an update on the driver's location.
"The driver will soon be there, he's just around the corner." (in true Jamaican style), which meant an extra 15 to 20 minutes if I was lucky.
We never went for long periods without speaking to each other, and it was a habit for Brown Sugar to send me care packages.
I'll never forget that one time in Leiden, Netherlands when a delivery driver I was expecting came banging on my door. He presented me with a care package and told me that I had to pay 45 euros for duty. What a predicament! That was my pocket money for the month, and I dare not tell Brown Sugar because I knew that she would have sent that money and it just seemed so wrong.
If only I could turn back the time.
Now married and living in the UK, I had a tight schedule of volunteering jobs. Some days I did telephone support for persons affected by cancer for a private charity, while other days I spent a few hours on the cancer ward at the hospital doing hand massages for patients with cancer.
It was the most fulfilling job ever. The patients looked forward to seeing me on Tuesdays and Wednesdays.
While volunteering, I made a great connection with another volunteer, many years my senior who was on remission from Cancer. She was the first friend I made when I relocated to the UK. Sadly she passed away.
I was lying on my bed when Brown Sugar called me. Her voice was low. She said she was at the former hotel where I worked. She gave me the low down on the happenings. I missed her so much. She asked about my immigration status and how easy it would be for me to go to visit her in the United States. We agreed that it was best to wait until I had received my permanent residence, which would allow me free movement.
-- "Are you still doing voluntary work? How do you feel about it." Brown Sugar asked.
-- "Yeah, I don't know if there's a meaning to it, but there's something that is drawing me to to work and care for cancer patients. It's so rewarding though." Was my reply to Brown Sugar.
-- "You're doing the right thing. Keep doing it if you feel so good about it."
... We said goodbye.
A few weeks went by and I had finally secured a job working as a Chiropractic Assistant. I was juggling jobs and training. Brown Sugar was constantly on my mind, and the list of things I wanted to discuss with her and update on each other's lives was getting longer.
I was scheduled to be off on a Thursday, the day I would ring up Brown Sugar. On Tuesday evening as I sat down to dinner, I received a tearful call from Brown Sugar's husband that she passed away from a superbug she contracted while undergoing an operation for Cancer.
A part of me died, but I learned to live again. Twelve years later, and this is the first time that I've been able to pen my feelings for my best friend.
My Brown Sugar!
My rose!💔🥀
All images are mine.
